


Fixation

by kscribbles



Category: Fright Night (2011)
Genre: F/M, Het and Slash, M/M, Multi, Oral Fixation, Oral Sex, Slash, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-13
Updated: 2012-01-13
Packaged: 2017-10-29 11:01:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/319181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kscribbles/pseuds/kscribbles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Peter/Charley/Amy - Threesome. Yeah, it's another request for threesome fic. The mechanics are up to you, dear writer, my only specific request is: I want Amy to sit on Peter's face.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fixation

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the lj community FrightNight2011's kinkmeme: http://frightnight2011.livejournal.com/718.html

It's a recent phenomenon that seems to have come out of nowhere.  But Amy suddenly finds herself constantly fixating on Peter's mouth.  All of it. His uneven lips, his small slightly pointy teeth that light up his smile.  She doesn't know why.  She has a boyfriend with lovely full lips she loves to kiss, and Peter's are thin, unremarkable.  Like the rest of him.  But he does sort of... grow on you.  And what you at first find at worst repellent (black silk robe, really?) and at best yeah whatever (what is he, like 40?), now suddenly seems so sexy it hurts.

It's all of him she wants, if she's honest with herself.  But god, it's his mouth the most.  Maybe it's the way he... works it.  How his lips pull on a cigarette, the way he caresses those English vowels.  She finds herself imagining him doing filthy, filthy things to her.  When she's alone at night, touching herself, she thinks about fucking Charley, and she thinks about fucking Peter—his lips sucking hard on her tits or his tongue (like it wraps around the letter “o”, or sucks on an ice cube), going to work between her legs—and she thinks about them fucking each other (which she's pretty sure they do, though she'd never asked for details.  Charley had saved their lives.  If they were safe, and Charley was happy, then so was she).

But she can't talk to _Peter_ about this new fixation of hers.  Not without being ready to act on it. Which she won't be without talking to her boyfriend.  And okay maybe over burgers on a Wednesday afternoon after classes isn't the best time to bring it up, but she _can't stop thinking_ about it.  Kissing Peter, fucking Peter, and oh, god, fucking his face.    
   
So she asks Charley, point blank, how good Peter is at giving head.  Charley nearly chokes on his Double Double and then blushes adorably before reluctantly admitting that yeah, in that regard, Peter is very, very talented.

“Why do you want to know?”

“Why do you think?  You're not the only one who thinks he's sexy, you know.”

“Oh.  Um...”  He looks around like he thinks others might be listening.  Poor baby is nearly scarlet.

Maybe she shouldn't have brought it up.  Charley's private time with Peter is just that.  It's a weird way to have a relationship, but it's worked for them so far.  And she's gone this far, so she may as well just tell the truth.

“I...” she bites her lip for a second, “... I want him.”

“Seriously?” Charley is looking at her curiously.  He’s definitely coming around from embarrassed to intrigued.

She nods.  “I want you both.  Together.”  His eyes widen.  And then because she thinks she might have gone a step _too_ far, she softly asks, “Is that okay?”

“Is that _okay_?” Charley looks like all his Christmases have come at once.  

They have to leave the burger joint very quickly before he embarrasses himself.

 

* * *

 

Charley is practically vibrating with excitement.  It's been three very long days since Amy had brought up having this threeway.  Oh, he and Amy had fucked each other's brains out that night, but he had waited before asking Peter.  Waited for the weekend, and waited also to give Amy a respectable amount of time to change her mind, while praying she wouldn't.  She hadn't.

And here he is, standing in Peter's bedroom already naked and hard as steel, watching his two lovers undress each other.  They pause when she's lost every stitch but for her lacy thong, and Peter's only got on his black jeans.  They've stopped to make out and he supposes now is when he should probably be feeling jealous of...  someone if that was going to happen, but he feels nothing but incredibly turned on.   Jesus, they're sexy.  He wants to fuck someone, wants to touch himself, but he waits, frozen, listening, watching.

Amy's hands are fisted in Peter's hair and she is moaning into his mouth as they kiss, and he's grabbed her ass and is grinding against her, and knowing Peter, they had better move this along before he's down for the count for a while.  And Charley isn't sure who or what he wants to do first, and this is already a little overwhelming, but he knows they need to move, so he manages to croak out a single word.

“Bed.”

They break apart with a wet sound, and Amy looks at Charley, dazed.  And then she nods, hooks her fingers in her underwear and slides them off.  Peter, looking bemused, like he finds all this _charming_ , follows suit and his jeans hit the floor.  Amy smiles at seeing what they've revealed.  “Nice,” she says simply, before placing her hand on Peter's chest and giving him a gentle shove.

Peter falls readily onto the bed, sprawled on his back.  “Charley?” he asks, clearly inviting him onto the bed.  
   
Charley swallows, torn between wanting to watch and wanting to _do_.  Amy waits.  It’s Charley’s call.  And why’s he been put in charge?    
   
“Go ahead,” he says to them both.  “I want to watch a little longer.”  
   
Amy looks surprised by this, but doesn’t hesitate in climbing over Peter and they lock lips again.  She is straddling his thigh, avoiding lining them up properly for sex.  But she’s grinding against him, and he can hear how badly she wants it in the little sounds she’s making into Peter’s mouth.  Peter is completely hard, but his cock’s not gotten any attention just yet, and that won’t do, Charley decides.  
   
He kneels on the edge of the bed, sliding a hand on to Amy’s hip.  She stills, they break apart, and both look at him.  
   
“Done watching?” Peter asks.  “That didn’t last long.  We haven’t even done anything.”  
   
“Impatient,” Charley mutters and climbs up Peter’s body, alongside Amy and there, a touch of friction as their cocks brush each other and they both gasp.  He kisses Peter and Amy gasps too, like she’s finally getting overwhelmed as well, losing her cool just that little bit, and she scoots a little to give them room.  Peter doesn’t let her get far and when Charley opens his eyes, he can see Peter’s got a hand working between her legs.  
   
Charley wants it all, wants to experience everything, but his mind is racing.  He doesn’t know what next, he wants to come, and he wants to see these two come apart.  He pulls back, reaches for Amy and then they’re kissing over Peter, who bucks up beneath him and moans low, and Charley is having a _lot_ of trouble concentrating on this kiss.   Amy ends it for him, pushing both of them away.   “Sit back a sec’,” she says to him.  
   
He does, grateful for the breather, and then Amy reaches behind her and grasps Peter’s plush headboard.  She hauls herself up, so she’s nearly standing for a second and then throws a fucking leg over Peter’s head.  She did say she wanted this; that’s what started it all.  She’d wanted Peter to go down on her, but Charley had never pictured it quite like this.  His fantasies and this reality mesh and explode and Charley can hardly breathe as he watches Amy, with her toned, runner’s legs, lower herself ever so gently, like it’s in goddamned slow motion, onto Peter’s face.  
   
Peter groans, wraps his arms around her thighs to steady her and goes to _town_.  Sucking and licking and nibbling and the sounds are almost obscene, and Charley realizes he’s frozen again as Amy smiles at him, a look of perfect bliss coming over her face before she closes her eyes, grips the headboard even tighter and begins to rock her hips.  
   
He unfreezes, grabs _Peter’s_ hips because his own cock demands attention right the fuck now, and he slides their cocks against each other again, more fully this time.  Peter falters a little in what he’s doing to Amy.  Charley takes a little pleasure in that, but he barely notices the thought, and he thrusts again, trying to set a rhythm, hoping he can make this good for Peter too, but there isn’t enough friction, and he needs that, and all it takes is his fist wrapped around both their cocks for just _seconds_ and he’s fucking coming.    
   
“Oh,” he says, “ _fuck_ …”  
   
   
* * *  
   
   
Peter is having a pretty good night.  He has a new lover and she is smoking hot, wants him something terrible (And how had he only just noticed this recently?  Damn, Charley was _distracting_ ), and she has just come, and fucking _loudly_ at that, on his face.  And Charley, _oh_ Charley, moments earlier had just shot all over them both, and is a little mortified at how briefly he’s lasted.  Peter doesn’t care, it’s fucking hot, and the kid will be good to go again soon anyway.  He’s gently lapping at Amy, bringing her down, and her legs are trembling, but he can tell, she doesn’t want it to stop.  
   
He feels Charley brush something over his belly, wiping off the mess, and then feels Charley’s hand grasp his cock, still so hard.  He’s aching, but he’s not ready to go off just yet.  He releases Amy and bats Charley’s hand away.  Amy finally climbs off and collapses next to them, breathing heavily, but Charley hasn’t moved.  
   
“No?”  Charley asks.  
   
“Not yet,” Peter answers, and sees all the _possibilities_ on Charley’s face as they flash through his mind.  He looks at Amy.   She’s grinning, a little sleepily.  
   
“You’re amazing,” she says to him.  
   
“So I’ve been told.”   He licks his lips.   “Did you like that Charley?   Seems as though you did.”  He can’t resist a little smirk.  
   
“Fuck you,” Charley answers.  
   
“Well… the night is young.”    
  
Amy makes a small whimpering sound, and Peter barely holds in a chuckle.  God these kids are so bloody _delightful_.  So eager to see and feel and fuck it all.  “What’s your pleasure?” he asks Amy, stroking her cheek lightly.    
   
“Mine?  I just…. and you’re still…” She trails off, brushing a hand against his hip, indicating his erection.  
   
“Yes, but this isn’t about me, is it?”  He glances over to Charley, meets his eyes.  
   
“It’s about all of us, Peter,” Charley answers.  “How…” he asks, crawling up his body again before he finishes the sentence and now Peter’s got a warm, sated teenager under each arm,  “…do you want to come?”  
   
Peter says the first thing that comes to mind.  
   
“Inside your girlfriend.”  
   
Amy sucks in a breath and holds it.  Charley nods and shifts away.   “Where are you—?”  Peter begins to ask, but he sees that Charley is only going as far as the bedside drawer to fetch condoms.  
   
Charley tosses one to Peter with a slow smile.  “Think you can handle her?”  he asks.  “She bites.”  
   
“Not hard,” Amy protests.   “It’s a… thing.”  
   
A vampy thing.  He knows.  He still gets that urge himself, from out of nowhere sometimes. And he was never even properly turned.  He doesn’t comment on it.  Just rips open the packet and slides on the latex with a hiss.  He’s going to try damned hard to not go off like a fucking rocket.  
   
“Right,” he announces, shifting them all.  “On your back, love.  I’ve been on mine long enough.”  He winks at Charley, then slides over Amy, nudging apart her thighs and slipping between them.  
   
He leans down and sucks one of her nipples into his mouth and hears her breathe out “Fuck” as she tugs on his hair.  “Now.  Please,” she says more clearly.  
   
He dallies a little longer, paying attention to her other breast with teeth and tongue and lips until she’s writhing beneath him.  He finally takes her direction, leans up, and pushes inside.  She’s slippery wet, but oh so wonderfully tight around him.  She throws her head back against the pillows and takes a deep breath and then sets her hands on his hips, her knees falling wide.  She meets his eyes.  “Fuck me,” she demands.  
   
He glances at Charley as he slowly begins to move.  The younger man is watching, eyes rapt, lips moist and parted, up on an elbow next to him.  Charley’s eyes tell him to get on with it.  Peter lets go.  Forgets everything but his cock and moves more quickly.  Soon he’s built up a rhythm, and then he’s going faster yet, and now just pounding the girl beneath him, and she’s encouraging him with filth from her mouth, and the wicked push of her hips against his.  He’s chasing his orgasm, hanging there on the edge for much longer than seems should be possible.  He shifts, getting closer to her, her tits crushed against his chest now, and he hears Amy’s cries, and goddamn she sounds like she’s going to come again, and he’s fucking proud of himself, and he’s still right the fuck _there_.  And that’s when he feels it, her teeth, just pushing against his neck, and she goes rigid beneath him.   He comes _hard_.  It goes on for ages, the pleasure spiraling though every nerve before he’s done pushing against the soft body beneath him.  
   
When he’s next aware, it’s not just two hands caressing his damp skin.  Yeah, he’d say it’s a pretty fucking good night.  
   
   
* * *  
   
   
Amy watches wide-eyed.  She’s lying right next to Peter, but her boys have forgotten her for the time being.  That’s okay, she’s so well-fucked, she doesn’t know if she could go again.  They’re fucking _beautiful_.  She never thought… she knew, but she didn’t _know_ it would be like this.  They’re on their sides and Charley is moving against Peter’s back, fucking him slowly, and Peter’s reached a hand back clutching tightly to Charley haunch as those muscles flex again and again.  
   
She looks at Peter’s shut eyes, his mouth open and pulling in a breath at each thrust, and unbelievably she feels it all build in her again.  God, that fucking mouth.  
   
“Amy,” Peter says, and she hadn’t realized he’d opened his eyes.   “C’mere.”  
   
He lets go of Charley and pulls her down into a kiss, sucking just a touch on her bottom before driving his tongue inside, stroking in time with Charley’s rhythm.  He pulls away a fraction and slips his fingers down between her legs again and she moans against his lips.  “It’s my mouth, isn’t it?” he breaths against her.  
   
“What?”  His fingers are as talented as the rest of him, and she’s not sure what he’s said.  
   
“You’ve…  you’ve been staring, the past few days.”  He kisses her again briefly, clings with the other hand not moving below as Charley must be hitting a good spot.  “Usually.   _Oh fuck_ ,” he struggles.  “Usually women, they like my hands.  Illusionist, all that.”  
   
“Good hands, too,” she gasps and she’s already close again.  “Love ‘em.”  
   
He moves his mouth down to her neck, sucks there a second, and then so lightly she barely feels it, closes his teeth against her skin.  
   
“The truth, Amy,” she hears Charley prompt from over Peter’s shoulder.  
   
She comes, shuddering, and breathless.  “Yeah,” she admits when she’s able, “I think I might have a little fixation.”  

 

FIN


End file.
